Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
"Mack's an asshole. Someone needed to take him down a notch or two."
"True," she agreed, snorting. "He grabbed my ass and told me the only place for a woman in a race was in the passenger seat sucking him off."
"Charming," I said, sighing, holding out her keys.
She watched them for a long moment, like they were some kind of trap, before snatching them away. I didn't miss the way she slipped the keys between her fingers.
"What do you want for this?" she asked. And I couldn't exactly fault her for being suspicious.
"Nothing. It's free."
"Nothing is free. Least of all from a guy," she said, brow arching up.
"That's probably unfortunately true," I agreed. "Look, this is a hard scene to break into. Especially for a woman. If you want any help, let me know," I said, going into my car, jotting down my number, and holding it out to her.
"Why would you want to help me?"
"As much fun as it was to beat Mack today, I think it would be that much better to watch you someday beat him. To do that, you'd need some training. And some work on that car. I can help with both. You'll pay for parts. I'll show you how to do the work."
"You're literally getting nothing out of this deal."
"Maybe if you look at it as an offer of friendship instead of a deal, you'd be more comfortable with it."
"Friendship. You don't even know me. I could be a crazy person."
"Maybe I don't mind crazy," I said, shrugging. "I'm Che," I told her, offering my hand.
"Duh. I mean... everyone knows who you are. You're a legend," she said, shaking my hand quickly.
"So, you want to meet me over between Ocean and Cutler."
"Ocean and Cutler," she repeated, brows drawing together.
"It's between two police districts. If anyone ever calls on us, it will take them longer to show because they have to iron out those kinks. Gives us enough time to slip away."
"Smart. Okay. When?"
"Tomorrow night. Three a.m.," I told her, turning back toward my car.
"Che," she called, making me turn back.
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. Really. I owe you," she told me.
"You don't owe me shit."
As it turned out, though, I would owe her more than I ever could have imagined at the time...
—
"Okay, Jesus Christ," Huck said, pulling me out of my memories. "Thanks for the trip down memory lane, but you haven't answered a fucking thing."
"I was getting there," I insisted.
"When? Five hours from now? I need to know how you ended up married. And how none of us knew about it."
"That's... it's complicated," I insisted.
"It's not that complicated," Saskia cut in, making everyone turn to find her leaning in the doorway, a mug of coffee between her hands. "We're married out of convenience, not love," she explained.
"There. Was that so hard?" Huck asked. "Sass, why don't you join us? It seems like we will get straighter answers from you."
Chapter Four
Saskia
I'd been starstruck when I'd met Che.
You didn't fangirl over the Miami street racing scene without knowing who he was.
There were only a few guys who stayed steadily at the top.
He was one of them.
The fact that he was willing to talk to me at all, let alone win me my car back, and offer to help me to learn, just completely floored me.
I made my way to that first meet-up sure he was going to stand me up. But by the time I got there, he was waiting. With donuts. I mean, what guy stopped on his way to teach a strange girl about racing to pick out a half dozen donuts?
Che, that's who.
What he'd offered me that first night was exactly what he had given me.
Friendship.
To a girl who really desperately needed it.
"Che and I are married in name only," I told his club, moving to sit down on the couch.
"Why would an eighteen-year-old girl do something like that?" Huck asked.
Honestly? Because I'd been infatuated with him.
It had been a silly, yet all-consuming girlish crush.
He was gorgeous, older, interesting, and giving me a little attention. Even if that attention was only friendly to him. Maybe even more of a mentor/mentee sort of thing.
He hadn't been interested in me like I'd been in him. He could have any woman he wanted. What would he want with unsure, inexperienced me?
Still, he gave me his time.
And I ate up every second of it.
Devoured it, in fact.
His presence, his attention, but also his knowledge.
He taught me more that summer than I could have learned by myself in a year, in five.
I went from a nobody to an up-and-coming star on the racing scene. I made money. I made more money per week than I could earn in a month at a normal job.
And on top of that, I got the respect, something I so desperately needed at the time.
Oh, who was I kidding? I still spent far too much of my time trying to earn more and more respect.